


Under Dark Skies

by autumnstar



Series: Echoing Hearts [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 17:15:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15733887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autumnstar/pseuds/autumnstar
Summary: She didn’t want him to go, he realised belatedly, but he couldn’t take the words back and he couldn’t avoid this deal. He’d been preparing for this one for days, and it was all for Belle. At some point in the future, she’d need him to have made this deal.[Set during chapter 6 of Echoing Hearts.]





	Under Dark Skies

Belle had been in a good mood since he’d woken up, and he couldn’t figure out why. She’d woken him with kisses peppered all over his face and neck, and Rumple had opened bleary eyes to see her beaming down at him, and her high spirits were infectious.

It wasn’t long before she’d talked him into having breakfast in the cave with her that morning, no matter how much he insisted she didn’t have to. She wanted it to be just the two of them, she’d said. So he’d whipped up the sweetest and unhealthiest of breakfasts he could think of. The colourful cakes and scones with thick layers of jam seemed perfect for her cheery mood, and she didn’t ask why it wasn’t their usual breakfast. Belle just gave him a look and one of her knowing smiles; the kind where she pressed her lips together and her eyes twinkled.

“What’s in the glass vial?” she asked as she took a bite of one of the scones with strawberry jam. She always had been a curious thing, and Rumplestiltskin couldn’t resist indulging her. It was worth it just to see the awe on her face.

“What vial?”

“That one.” She pointed to his slowly growing collection of things, never taking her eyes off the little glowing vial of magic. “The one with the gold powder.”

“Oh, _that_ one.” She threw him another look, and his smile widened. Drawing out his answer, Rumple sat on the rock beside her with deliberate slowness. He adjusted his jacket and cuffs just so, and crossed his legs with care. When he looked back at her, just as he’d expected, Belle was watching him and leaning closer.

“It accelerates ageing,” he said at last, smiling as she screwed up her nose.

“Why would anyone want that?”

“Why wouldn’t they?”

“What about the one next to it?” She nodded at a longer, thinner vial, filled with a shimmering blue powder that looked like the night sky.

“A forgetfulness spell.”

“What do you want that for?”

“I’ve forgotten.”

She laughed, and it was such an unexpected and bright sound that for a moment he could do nothing but stare at her. That sound pulled him in and filled him with a lightness he hadn’t felt in a very long time. He wanted to make her laugh again.

"What about the shoe?" Belle asked, pointing at it with her half-eaten scone. It was an old, worn thing, and not in a style from anywhere in the Enchanted Forest. He supposed he could see why she’d find it so curious. Even if it wasn’t anything special to look at, she always found the value in ugly things.

"An old woman used to live in it," Rumple said.

“The shoe?” she puzzled, and he tried not to smile at the little frown on her face. "Where does she live now?"

"In the other one." He gave her a toothy grin. "It's much nicer."

“You’re making this up,” Belle chuckled and took another bite of her scone. He watched her lick the jam off her plump lips, too distracted by that to defend himself because _of course_ he wasn’t lying. He really had got the shoe from an old woman. It was the powders he hadn’t been entirely forthcoming about.

“Rumple?” He blinked, and suddenly she was staring back at him. “Do you want some?” She held out her scone with a playful smile that told him her double meaning had been very, _very_ deliberate.

“No,” Rumple said shortly.

“Are you sure?” she teased, leaning forward to hold the scone closer to his face. It wasn’t by chance that the position gave him a nice view down the front of her bodice. She was purposely trying to fluster him, and he wouldn’t let her. Not without giving her a good dose of teasing in return.

Without taking his eyes from hers - and their ridiculously bright, brilliant blue - he took a bite of the scone, jam and all. It was lovely and sweet and fresh, and he gave an exaggerated _mmm_ of approval. Belle’s smile wavered, but she didn’t look disgusted or shocked. He couldn’t place the look on her face, with her slightly parted lips and wide eyes, but he did catch her eyes flicking down to his lips when he licked the jam from them.

Belle looked away quickly and he smiled triumphantly around his mouthful of scone. She clearly hadn’t expected him to accept her challenge, and now she didn’t know what to do. She put the final bite into her mouth and licked the jam from her fingers. His smile wavered.

Even when she’d stopped teasing him she sent his heart racing.

She was going to kill him.

Scone finished, Belle looked back at him and smiled softly. The cave always had a darkness to it, even once the sun had risen. The only light that came in was through the mouth of it, and it rippled and bounced around as it beamed through the rushing water. But sometimes, even if he couldn’t work out why, Rumple would still catch a pink flush in Belle’s cheeks.

Dusting her hands off, the curious thing scooted closer to him on the rock and smiled up at him brighter. She leaned into him, and he leaned back.

“Thank you for breakfast,” she said, with the smile of someone who was up to something. He narrowed his eyes at her, and her mischievous glee lit up her face. He felt his frown soften without him telling it to.

“No need to thank me,” he returned with a wave of his hand. Her eyes dropped to his lips, and she bit her own.

Did she want him to kiss her?

She answered that for him a second later when, with a huff of frustration, she closed the space between them. Her soft lips pressed against his own, warm and inviting, and her hand rested on his thigh. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to her readily touching him.

He could feel the darkness in her when they kissed; the darkness she’d put there trying to save a version of himself. Knowing that sent a selfish thrill through him; that darkness was there because of him, for him. It was a little ball of magic in her chest, waiting to be tapped into, to be touched.

Rumple placed his hand flat over her heart, and she sighed against his lips.

“I love you,” she whispered as she pulled away. He wanted to tell her that no, she didn’t, she couldn’t, but the expectant look she gave him kept him silent. Belle was in a good mood and he didn’t want to ruin that.

 _You don’t say a lot of things_ , she’d told him, and he could still hear the disappointment in her voice as she pulled away from him. He hadn’t been able to argue with her on that, either. It was true.

“I have a deal to make today,” he told her, hoping that it would be _something_. She couldn’t say he told her nothing if he told her something.

Sitting back, Belle searched his face and he prepared himself for her annoyance, but she only sighed and said, “Oh. What’s this one for?”

She didn’t want him to go, he realised belatedly, but he couldn’t take the words back and he couldn’t avoid this deal. He’d been preparing for this one for days, and it was all for Belle. At some point in the future, she’d need him to have made this deal.

“A cloak.”

“You already have a cloak,” she said, confused.

“The cloak’s not for me, dear,” he giggled, expecting to see her smile, but she didn’t. The corners of her lips only barely quirked up before she turned from him and stood up.

“In that case,” Belle said, dusting off the back of her trousers and drawing his eyes down to her hands; definitely just her hands, and not the back of her trousers, “I’m going into the village.”

He frowned. “Why?”

“We need food,” she said simply, reaching for her cloak. Rumplestiltskin stood and walked around her, watching her closely as she readied herself.

“I can give you food,” he reminded.

“With magic.” Belle nodded to tell him she already knew, and fumbled with the clasp of her cloak. He brushed her hands away and clicked the metal pin into place for her. She’d gone quiet, and he didn’t realise why until he’d fixed her hood over her head and straightened the front of the cloak. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

“You don’t need to go out there,” he tried again.

“I’ll be fine, Rumple.” She rubbed his arm as she stepped around him and grabbed her basket. “I’ll go straight there, buy what we need, and come right back. How does that sound?”

“Optimistic,” he decided, earning him another look from under her heavy hood. “Brave?” he amended.

“We need food, and you can’t keep using magic.”

“Whyever not?” He raised his hands, like he was casting an unseen spell, and grinned at her. “I can give us all we’ll ever need with magic. Magic’s...” _All you can give her,_ “It’s all we need.”

With sad blue eyes, Belle gave him a little smile and put her hand on his arm again. He looked down at it, slowly lowering his arm from where he’d posed it in the air. She was so warm and small. All he wanted to do was pull her in and keep her and her oversized cloak where she was safe. Cora had already tricked him once; he wouldn’t let her do it again and he certainly wouldn’t let her hurt Belle.

“I only need you, Rumple.” She held up her little basket and smiled playfully. “And food.” Squeezing his arm, Belle leaned up to kiss his cheek, and then she was gone.

He stayed behind in the cave for some time before he had to leave, and he left using magic. He didn’t take his cloak with him. At least then, if there were knights nearby, he’d take the attention away from Belle.

Disappearing in a puff of smoke, Rumplestiltskin found himself in the woods, further upriver and overlooking the village. It was market day, he noted as he watched the crowd bustling around the colourful sheets over the stalls. Overhead, grey clouds slowly rolled in.

“Hello?” an unsure voice asked behind him. A smile slowly crept across his face, and he pushed his concerns for Belle to the back of his mind. This deal would help her, and he trusted her enough to know she’d do as she said. If she said she’d go straight back to the cave, she’d go straight back to the cave.

“There you are, dearie,” he sang and pivoted on his heel. The woman he’d been waiting for stepped back, eyes wide, and his grin stretched wider. “I thought maybe you’d changed your mind,” he paused and tilted his head, “Or fallen into a ditch.”

“You knew I was coming?”

He chuckled and twirled his hand in the air. “But of course.” Rumple grinned. “Red.”

Her eyes somehow widened even more. “And do you know what I want?” she challenged, lifting her chin.

 _Hm_. He hadn’t been expecting that little spark of fire. Red - with her dark hair, wide eyes, and probably around Belle’s age - still looked like a timid thing. But what he’d initially mistaken for a mousy girl, like everyone else foolish enough to make a deal with him, seemed to have something of a wolf about her. He laughed again, making her frown.

_Of course she does._

“I have some idea,” he allowed.

“Then can you do that?”

Rumplestiltskin frowned, narrowing his eyes, and in as confused a voice as he could muster asked, “Do what, dearie?”

She rolled her eyes and his smile came back. He couldn’t have her saying he put words into her mouth. The woman had to tell him exactly what it was she wanted, so that he could twist it later.

“My cloak,” Red clarified, and he waved a hand at her to carry on. Faster. “Someone stole it, and without it I’m--... I need that cloak. It’s enchanted.”

“Isn’t everything in this forest?” He lifted his hands and looked around.

“Not like this. The cloak--” She clenched her hands in front of her, miming something that Rumple didn’t care enough about to try and understand. “It holds back a curse.”

“Holds back?” he repeated, unable to hide the amused lilt in his voice. “Or hides it?”

Her eyes widened again, and he knew he’d hit the nail on the head. She dropped her hands and nodded, once, and Rumplestiltskin relented. He could work with that.

“And you want me to, what?” He waved his hands. “Weave you a new cloak?”

“Can’t you get my old one back?”

“Oh, I could,” he agreed. She looked hopeful and he wrinkled his nose at her. “But I don’t want to.”

“Please,” she said. “It’s important.”

They’d hit the begging part already? This deal was going to be over much quicker than he’d expected. But maybe that was a good thing. Around them, rain slowly began to patter on the forest floor, bouncing off leaves and the woman’s dark curls. Red looked even more miserable, and something told him he should hurry. The darkness unfurled in his heart and prowled uneasily inside his chest.

It was time to wrap up this deal.

With a quick flutter of his hand, and in a cloud of purple magic, Rumple presented Red with a box. It was a small, cube-shaped thing, so small that even in Belle’s hands it had looked tiny. He smiled, more at the memory than at the woman in front of him, and handed it to her.

“What’s this?”

“Let’s call it a sample,” he answered as she lifted the lid gingerly and peered in. Inside was a scrap of thick, red material, embroidered with a pattern that was hard to make out on such a small strip of fabric.

She gasped and pulled it out, clutching it to her chest as if she was trying to hug it. She probably was.

“I take it that’s what you seek?” Rumple asked.

“Yes! This is it,” she said, excited. “Can you get more of it?”

“Perhaps.” He watched the hopeful look shining in her eyes, reeling her in, and pointed a clawed finger at her. “For a price.”

“Of course. Name it,” she agreed without hesitation.

_Perfect._

“I don’t know, dearie.” He looked her up and down, from the long length of her red skirts to her threadbare shawl. “Doesn’t exactly look like you have much to offer.”

Disappointment slowly began to slink back over her, her shoulders slumped, but she still clung onto that little scrap of red like it could save her somehow. She pressed her lips together, trying desperately to figure something out, and then that wolfish determination came back and she lifted her chin.

“They say you’re living with a woman,” she said. It didn’t sound like a question, but he could tell from her slight frown that she wasn’t certain. He narrowed his eyes at her and rubbed his fingers together, unsure.

“What of it?”

To his surprise, Red didn’t laugh, she didn’t even so much as crack a smile, she just _sighed_. She was relieved. “I have a necklace,” she explained.

“I don’t want your trinkets,” he dismissed, feeling the same relief, and shooed away her hands as she held out the delicate gold chain.

“Please, I need this cloak.”

 _Ah_. Back to begging. Luckily enough for her, Rumplestiltskin went there knowing exactly what it was he wanted from her. His powers of foresight might not have been what they used to be, but he knew a woman in red was going to help Belle, and that had been enough for him to seek her out and steal her cloak.

“Tell you what,” Rumple said with a flick of his hand towards her. “I’ll spin you this cloak,” he mimed the spin of his wheel with both hands and smiled, “and in return...” He trailed off, paused for effect, and shrugged. “You can owe me a favour?”

“A favour?”

“Just one, little favour. In return for a cloak to keep you all safe.” Rumple glanced back to the village, and saw the girl’s silent gasp. “No more midnight feasts.” He grinned. She looked like she might be sick. “Do we have a deal?”

“We do,” Red agreed immediately. A triumphant giggle left him, no matter how hard he tried to keep it in, and he held his hand out to her. She frowned down at it, then slowly took it and shook it.

“Not your hand, dearie.” He showed his teeth and she ripped her hand away. “The cloth.”

Realisation dawned on her face and she handed it over to him, careful not to let their fingers touch. He snatched it from her and pinched it between the thumb and index finger of both hands. He could feel her watching him now, as they always did when they were about to witness the Dark One using magic. Everyone reviled dark magic until they thought it might help them. Just like they reviled and hated him until he gave them a solution to their problems.

With a twirl of his hands, and an added pinch of flair, Rumplestiltskin stretched out the material in a shimmer of golden magic and shook it out. Sparks of magic danced around them, filling the air, and as they drifted back down and mingled with the rain, he held up a heavy, red cloak.

When he looked back to her, holding it out for her to take, her mouth had fallen open and tears sprang into her eyes.

“Thank you,” she said shakily, accepting it from him. “Thank you.”

“Save your thanks,” he said as she wrapped the cloak around her shoulders, pulling up the hood. It was an almost identical replica of the one he’d taken from her. “You don’t know what I might ask of you later.”

The colour drained from her face, as the realisation of what she’d promised finally hit her, and Rumplestiltskin grinned. As quick as he created her cloak, the woman stepped back and turned to hurry away, but he stopped her with a finger in the air.

“Oh!” he said, loud enough to make her flinch, and she hesitantly turned back to face him. “And you should leave the Enchanted Forest. Sooner the better.”

She took a deep breath, obviously willing herself to talk, but all she managed was a simple, “What?”

“Hard of hearing, are we, dearie?” He cupped his hand to his ear, and she bristled under his teasing, frowning and pulling her new cloak tighter around herself. It was already darker in places, with splashes of rain around the bottom where it brushed the ground.

“No, but… The Enchanted Forest has been my home all my life,” she explained, as if it mattered.

“How quaint,” he drawled, hand over his heart. “And soon to be your grave, as well.”

She worried at the tie on her cloak, as if the clasp could hold back her worry. “What do you mean?”

“Never mind what I mean,” Rumplestiltskin snapped. “Leave this forest, if you value your life.”

Red wasn’t going to die, but however it was she was going to help Belle it wouldn’t be done in the Enchanted Forest. Making her fear for her life felt like the most effective way of getting her to move.

“Where--” She gulped and cleared her throat. “Where should I go?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” He shrugged, knowing exactly where she should go. “The Dark Forest?”

“The _Dark_ Forest? There are bandits there!”

“And what stole your cloak here, the wee rabbits?”

“No, of course not, but--”

“But _nothing_ ,” he interrupted harshly. “Stay with the bandits here and die, or go with the bandits in the Dark Forest and live.”

She was startled into silence, and watched him for a long moment before finally nodding and taking her leave. He let her go the second time, and turned to make his own way back to the cave he shared with Belle. She should have been back by now, safe and out of the rain.

Puddles squelched around his feet as he followed the river down towards the waterfall, but the farther he walked the more his darkness stirred, like a beast being disturbed from its slumber. Something was wrong.

The muddy ground made it increasingly harder to walk fast, and he couldn’t use magic because he had no idea where to magic himself to. The beat of horses galloping was what finally led him in the right direction, and everything started to pass in a blur of moments; the moment he found the basket dropped by the river; the moment he saw the White Knight with a red arrow in his back; the moment he fell to his knees beside her in the mud.

Belle was lying still and cold on her back. Her cloak had fallen open, and the rain soaked her clothes. He lifted her - limp and drained of colour - into his lap, cradling her head in the crook of his elbow. The mud on her cloak covered his hands, and the damp cold seeped through his clothes to his skin.

“Belle?” He brushed his hand over her face, wiping away the mud and peeling her hair off her cheek. There was a smudge of red on her forehead and a small cut in her hairline. A blow to the head. At least it hadn’t been an arrow, unlike the knight lying dead nearby, but it didn’t sit well in his chest. The darkness raged. It wanted to make someone pay. He’d only just found her and he was so close to losing her all over again. He hadn’t foreseen this, but the future was murky and things could be changed.

Rumple hadn’t pictured a future without her.

“Don’t leave,” he whispered, putting his trembling hand against her chest to feel the slow thump of her heart. Water dripped down from the trees onto both of them, and he did his best to wipe the rain from her face. She was too cold.

Around him Rumple could hear nothing but the trickling rain. There was no snapping of twigs; no shuffling in the brush; no sign of life. His own boots slipping through the mud in his hurry to reach her had been almost deafening. Now there was nothing but the rain.

“Not like this,” he added, cupping her pale cheek. He didn’t recognise his own voice, quiet and wet, in the space between them. It hung in the still air with no one to answer. “Oh, Belle.”

He lifted her against his chest and dipped down to press a kiss to her forehead. Magic tingled against his lips, threatening to burst free and take his curse, but he held it back. There was no curse capturing her in sleep, or dangling her close to death. A kiss like that wouldn't wake her, but it would leave him powerless to make Cora pay.

“So it’s true,” a man spoke from somewhere to his side. “She does hold your heart.”

Rumplestiltskin looked up sharply to see the man emerging from behind a large ash tree. His armour gleamed in the grey sun, raindrops dripping off it and soaking the red tunic underneath. But he didn’t look as uncomfortable as Rumple felt kneeling in the mud. He looked confident. He raised his sword and opened his mouth to speak, but Rumple was faster.

“ _You_ ,” he growled.

"I want to make a deal," the knight said, without casting Belle so much as a glance. He got straight to the point. “The name of who did this in exchange for some magic.”

"Sorry, dearie. I'm all out of deals for today." A lazy flick of his wrist was all it took to throw the knight’s sword from his hand. It clattered into a tree and fell uselessly to the ground. “But I’ll still take that name.”

Clenching his raised hand into a claw, Rumple reached out his magic to curl around the man’s neck and pushed him down to his knees. He barely registered the feeble choking and pleas to be released as he carefully lowered Belle, using her hood to cushion her head on the ground. He stood and put himself between her and the fallen knight.

“The name,” he demanded, but the knight only struggled and Rumplestiltskin squeezed his hand tighter. “Tell me. Who did this?”

“I need… magic!” the knight spat out, clawing at the invisible force around his neck.

“Wrong answer!” he barked. “Try again.”

“But--” The knight started to turn purple. “ _Bishop_.”

“Very good. And your name?”

“R-Rook.”

Rumplestiltskin grinned nastily and tilted his head. “Oh, I can work with that.”

The darkness drove him, screaming at him to choke the life out of Rook, to snap his neck. He was about to, but a soft, broken voice near his feet made him pause. His hand stilled in the air.

“Rumple?”

**Author's Note:**

> You can also find me @[mareyshelley](http://mareyshelley.tumblr.com) on tumblr.


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